


A World Between Us

by anonfanfic, RaeDMagdon



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, Danger, F/F, Fingering, Hurt/Comfort, Ice Nation - Freeform, Lots of plot, Oral Sex, Political Intrigue, Politics, Season 3 AU, Slow Burn, Vanilla, but there WILL be sex we promise, canon adjacent, clarke the spy, nia and ontari are major characters, you have to be patient for the sin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-08 19:00:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13464534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonfanfic/pseuds/anonfanfic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeDMagdon/pseuds/RaeDMagdon
Summary: When Nia interrupts Clarke's vow of fealty to Lexa, the Ice Queen's intentions are clear. She is ready to come out of the shadows and challenge Lexa's authority more openly, with Ontari by her side. Though Lexa knows she is far from Clarke's favorite person, in the interest of both their peoples, she asks Clarke to gain the Ice Queen's confidence and discover her plans. Telling no one but her mother, Clarke must leave Polis and travel to Azgeda, with a walkie-talkie as her only connection to Lexa -- and her only means of warning Polis about Nia and Ontari's plans... which are not always the same.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a multi-chapter fic which will update regularly. It's my first collab with @anonfanfic (aka Sammy) and I'm thrilled to be working with her!
> 
> A World Between Us is a canonverse, season 3 AU. It deals mainly with Nia, Ontari, and the Ice Nation, so there isn't much emphasis on the Arkers. We really hope you enjoy it!
> 
> There will definitely be explicit Clexa Sexa, but this story is a slow burn. No sin for several chapters yet. Until then, we hope the political intrigue will be enough to excite you!
> 
> Reviews are loved, and so are follows. We're @raedmagdon and @anonfanfic on tumblr.

Clarke relaxed her knotted shoulders and drew in a deliberate breath. Although she waited outside the throne room, she could smell lit torches and incense. A lone soprano voice echoed from within, all the more haunting for its quiet distortion through the doors. It was a beautiful song. Old too, no doubt, as so many things on the ground were.   
  
Hollowness echoed within Clarke’s chest. When she’d first left the dropship — no, even before that, while growing up on the Ark — she had always held a certain fascination for pieces of the past. Earth Studies had never been boring for her. She still remembered the vivid green of the leaves on the first trees she’d seen, the scent of the first flowers she’d brought to her nose, the rush of cool water around her bare limbs the first time she’d leapt into a running river.   
  
These days, only the ghosts of her old awe remained. The Clarke of the past had seen Earth for what it could be, a beautiful living home where the Arkers could start anew. Wanheda, however, saw the ground for what it was: a hard, cruel place, where sacrifices must be made. She had tried her best to run from those sacrifices, but they had caught up with her nonetheless. Lexa had caught up with her.   
  
_ Lexa. _   
  
Clarke’s fists clenched, sending tension up along her arms. She would have preferred to continue believing — or perhaps just pretending — that the woman was traitorous, selfish, and unpredictable. But in truth, Clarke understood Lexa all too well. The Commander was a woman forged by the fires of duty, shaped under constant heat and pressure into a weapon she did not wish to be. Although Clarke understood, she did not sympathize. Not entirely. She had not forgotten Mount Weather.   
  
_ She took no pleasure in betraying you. You would have made the same choice, _ the voice in her head whispered, a voice that sounded infuriatingly like Lexa’s.    
  
It was not accusatory or hostile, but Clarke interpreted its message that way regardless. She cut off her thoughts, forcing them into the recesses of her mind. It was a skill she had developed after her father’s death, and re-developed after running away from Mount Weather. She had spent three whole months half-wild, fighting desperately to forget. For that effort, she had remarkably little to show.   
  
A lifeline was cast to her when the throne room doors opened. By focusing on the path ahead, Clarke was able to pull herself free of the sucking pit that so often tried to swallow her. Ahead of her were the torches she had smelled and the singer she had heard, along with a somber and silent crowd. With this new perspective, the song sounded more like a dirge than an anthem, and the atmosphere resembled a funeral rather than some ancient ceremony.   
  
The air was heavy and oppressive as she entered, matching her steps to the grave tempo of the soprano’s song. Lexa was waiting by the throne, Clarke knew, although she kept her eyes fixed elsewhere to avoid looking. The very same throne, or more likely a copy of the one Clarke had seen upon meeting her in that stifling tent. She had twirled a dagger between her fingers and made calculated threats, but Clarke had not hated her. She was still unsure if the emotions she felt for Lexa could be explained in such a simple term as ‘hate’.   
  
Clarke forced the lids of her eyes, heavy with swipes of kohl powder, to rise. It would not do to avoid the Commander’s gaze while everyone else was watching. Standing at the end of the path that bisected the throne room, Lexa looked far taller than she was. Her shoulders were squared, but her jaw was not thrust defiantly outward. She cut a striking figure, and the aura of confidence and authority she projected seemed effortless.

A slow and steady breath through her nose was all Clarke had time for. Having locked eyes with Lexa, it was nearly impossible to look away. It may have been for the best. Although everything and everyone else in the room seemed to have faded out of existence, Clarke was well aware that Kane and Abby were somewhere in the crowd. There was no need to search for her mother’s look of disapproval. She already knew full well how Abby felt about this alliance, and especially about her choice to trust Lexa.

Instead of trying to find them, she faced forward and walked with purpose. The hauntingly beautiful music, which had been distorted by the closed doors, resonated around Clarke in powerful waves. Her muscles hummed along with the melody, full of nervous energy she did not dare display. 

At last, Clarke stopped in front of Lexa. Up close, she was even more the picture of a Commander. Her expression was stone, and her vivid green eyes were fire, as brilliant as the red cape that cascaded behind her. The tension in the room built as they stared at each other, but it was Clarke who broke the gaze first, her eyes fluttering briefly to the ground in front of her — the place where she would kneel and show her loyalty to Lexa, the Commander of the Coalition. 

The room seemed to shrink around her, and Clarke fought back the urge to turn and run back the way she came. Everything was happening so fast, and she still wasn’t sure if she truly did trust Lexa at all. 

_ Not everyone. Not you. _

The words swelled in Clarke’s head, drowning out her doubts. It was almost soothing, calming the chaos of the unknown. She knew Lexa, probably better than almost anyone else in the world. Lexa was not cruel for cruelty’s sake. Although she could be cold, even merciless, she served her people first. To become one with the Grounders was to earn Lexa’s protection, and her loyalty.

_ Not you... _

In that moment, Clarke could not help wondering whether Lexa had meant ‘you’ in a far more personal way. But there was no time to think. This was a time for action.

Without further pause, Clarke knelt. Her knees touched the stone floor, and her muscles, which moments earlier had been alive with the song that echoed off the walls, stiffened as she lowered her head. A sign of respect for Heda that she knew the people in the room needed to see. Silence reigned around her. The soprano stopped singing, and the crowd’s breathing was inaudible. All Clarke could hear was the pounding of her own heart in her ears, and all she could feel was the heat of Lexa’s gaze upon the top of her head.

After an appropriate amount of time, Clarke shifted to one knee and began to rise. Before she got to her feet, the heavy doors behind her crashed open, sending a palpable shock throughout the room. The candles closest to the entrance flickered ominously, and Clarke jumped upright, surrendering to the instincts she had honed for months living on her own in the forest. She reached for her hip, but there was no weapon waiting for her. She had not been permitted to bring one to the ceremony.

A tall woman’s silhouette stood framed in the doorway, clad in heavy furs. As she stepped forward, the light of the candles revealed her face, harsh and angular and covered in deliberate scarring. She wore a dangerous smirk, one that drew the attention of every eye in the room. Behind her was a younger girl, clad head to toe in black with different, yet just as intentional scar patterns. She glared fiercely at Lexa, and Clarke chanced a quick glance over her shoulder. The fire burning in the Commander’s green eyes told her that these were unwelcome guests.

“Nia,” Lexa said, the crack of her voice snapping some of the invisible threads of tension. Clarke felt the recoil in her chest. The name Nia was known to her. It belonged to the Ice Queen, the woman who had called so loudly for Wanheda’s blood. The woman Lexa had “saved” her from.   
  
The woman in furs entered the throne room, walking the same path Clarke had taken straight down the makeshift aisle. Black water dripped from her boots, the last remnants of melted snow. The girl in dark leathers and fur trailed behind, and after her came two lines of spear-carrying guards, silent as ghosts. They took up position at the back of the room, not posturing or attempting to disrupt the ceremony more than it already had been, but remaining vigilant.   
  
“Heda,” Nia replied after some time, with a strange emphasis that made the title sound mocking rather than respectful.   
  
_ “Hakom yu kamp raun hir?” _   
  
“I am merely following up on your invitation,” Nia said, in Northern-accented Trigedasleng. Clarke had picked up enough of it from traders in the wilderness to understand the basics, but the scorn in Nia’s tone required no interpretation. “All the other clan leaders were invited through their Ambassadors. I assume there was a mistake.”   
  
Clarke remembered all too well that the Ice Nation’s most recent Ambassador had met his end by being kicked off a balcony. A mistake indeed. Nia’s affection of offense reminded Clarke of Maleficent storming into the princess’s birthday celebration to submit her grievances. Maybe that was even what the Ice Queen was going for, if Grounders had any recollections of the fairytale.   
  
“No mistake,” Lexa said, her expression calm but wary. There was no hint of fear on her face, which told Clarke that she was almost certainly frightened. “You called for Wanheda’s execution, but you are too late. Death has bowed before me.”   
  
Anger flashed in Nia’s eyes, but she doused it a moment later. Her smile thinned, reminding Clarke of a serpent’s mouth. “I see. Congratulations, Commander. To have conquered such a dangerous enemy and brought death herself into your fold must make you feel powerful indeed.”

Though the words were meant for Lexa, Clarke shuddered as the Ice Queen’s eyes fell on her. She suddenly had Nia’s full attention. The Ice Queen looked, for lack of a better word, intrigued.   
  
Lexa grabbed Nia’s attention again with sheer force of will, her chiseled chin jutting outward in defiance. Her only response was, “Yes.”   
  
There were a few murmurs from the crowd. Obviously, many of the onlookers were impressed with Lexa’s bravado. Others muttered darkly, thinking her overconfident. For her part, Clarke was nervous. She gulped, working moisture into her dry throat. Though the outfit she’d been provided with was the finest she’d worn in months, she suddenly felt naked — and she very much wished she had a weapon. Her eyes darted sideways, searching for a solution, and landed on a tall candelabra a few yards away. It would do, in a pinch — but Clarke did not end up needing it.   
  
Though Nia’s entire aura was threatening, she did not reach for a weapon. She did not seem to feel she needed one. Neither did her guards brandish their spears. The Ice Queen merely dipped her head a few inches without actually turning her face downward. Her eyes remained level, staring at Lexa intently, making the gesture seem more challenge than bow. Then, with a layered look at Clarke that she found impossible to read, Nia headed for a seat in the first row. She took her place among the other Clan leaders, who scurried a little too quickly to make room for her.   
  
The girl was more obvious in her rebellion, which was saying something. She sneered at Lexa and Clarke outright before making her approximation of a bow, then stalked after her Mistress to claim a place on the bench. There was something hauntingly familiar about her, although Clarke couldn’t think of what. Then it hit her. The anger and resentment brewing within the strange girl were practically a reflection of her own feelings. She had stewed in those same emotions for the past three months.   
  
_ It almost seems like she’s mad at Lexa for personal reasons? But why?  _ Lexa had no shortage of enemies, but Clarke found herself curious nonetheless

Lexa cleared her throat loudly, her fierce green eyes looking at Nia for another beat before scanning the room. Clarke watched as the Commander’s gaze fell on her. She returned the look, offering Lexa a small nod of encouragement to continue the ceremony. Although Lexa gave the impression that she had complete control of the room, Clarke had caught uncertainty in her eyes.

Lexa looked across the audience, straightening her posture so she stood at her full height on the platform. “Skaikru will now take the brand and become the thirteenth clan. And with that, the ceremony will be complete.”

Clarke turned to where Kane and Abby stood and watched them exchange a look before Kane stepped forward and rolled up his sleeve. A large guard walked over to him, holding a red hot branding iron, and pushed it into his skin. Kane flinched, gritting his teeth, and Clarke picked up the hiss of steam and the faint scent of burnt flesh. When the hot metal was pulled away, an angry red mark blazed brightly in its place. 

_ “Em ste odon.” _ Lexa put her hands behind her back, looking around at the multitude of faces turned to her. 

The room started to empty, Clan Leaders and Ambassadors filing out first, followed by their lower-ranking associates. Clarke heard their hurried whispers as they left, but was soon distracted by Titus as he walked over to Lexa and muttered something to her. She couldn’t see the movement of his lips, but his face lined with obvious concern. 

Lexa gave a single nod, her eyes searching the dispersing crowd for Nia. Clarke could tell the moment Lexa found her: they flared with dangerous fire, a fire Clarke had seen turned on her back before Mount Weather —- but not since.

That was a rather startling, and uncomfortable, realization. It was easier for her to be angry at Lexa when Lexa was angry at her, but the Commander seemed bent on offering only understanding. Not regret, of course. Clarke knew Lexa would make the decision to save her people again. But sorrow? Sympathy? That, Lexa had in ample supply, and it made Clarke squirm just thinking about it.

She looked away from Lexa and toward Nia. The Ice Queen gazed back, not at Lexa, but at her. A shiver ran down Clarke’s spine, but she forced herself to hold eye contact until the Ice Queen turned away. The sight of Nia’s thin, knowing smile had settled like a heavy stone in her stomach.

On the dais, Lexa dismissed Titus with a wave of her hand, then descended the stone steps to stand at Clarke’s side. “Get changed and meet me back here,  _ Klark _ . We have issues to discuss,” she said, her tone sharp and direct. This wasn’t a request or question, it was an order. Whatever silent threats had passed between Lexa and Nia, they had clearly unsettled her.

Clarke took her leave without goodbyes, not to Lexa, nor to her mother and Kane. She slipped away before anyone else could demand her attention, re-tracing the path she had taken from her room to the throne room earlier that evening. It wasn’t difficult to find her way. The tower was tall, but not wide or maze-like, and the guards stationed in front of the stairs made no attempt to stop her.

Once she arrived at her room, she stripped out of her ceremonial dress, carefully draping it over the back of a large chair beside the window. Her fingers brushed the smooth fabric, wondering how long it had taken to create such a garment — and wondering whether Lexa had given it to her out of generosity as well as the need to make her look intimidating. She was sure Wanheda had been quite a sight walking down the aisle of the throne room in this dress and full warpaint, hair braided like a warrior’s.

Naked except for her underclothes, Clarke walked over to the large steel basin that had been filled with warm water and began to scrub the kohl from her cheeks. She stared at her own reflection, watching drops of dark, dirty water fall from her face. Her stomach tightened with anxiety as she thought about Nia’s sudden appearance at the ceremony. The Ice Queen’s presence made Clarke feel uneasy. No, that was an understatement. Nia made her feel like she was in constant danger. 

_ That’s probably what she wants people to feel when she’s around,  _ Clarke thought. She abandoned the basin and pulled on her regular clothes, then retrieved a knife from the drawer of her nightstand. A sigh of relief escaped her as she secured it to her hip. Although she did not intend to use it on Lexa anymore, it felt good to have a weapon again. She took one last look around her room, her eyes lingering on the beautiful dress, before walking out of the room to meet Lexa. 

* * *

“We need to maintain the upper hand over the clan leaders at all times,” Titus insisted, the echo of the throne room adding urgency to his voice. “You know that,  _ Heda. _ ”

Lexa resisted the impulse to sigh. There were times Titus spoke to her as though she were still a child and he was still her teacher, and it sorely tested her patience. She needed no reminder of the threat Nia posed. She had been vying to increase her own for years, usually from the shadows, but now it seemed she was prepared to bring her manipulations into the light. Her arrival at the ceremony tonight had been anything but subtle.

When it became obvious from an awkward silence that Titus still expected a response, Lexa replied with her usual calm certainty. It wouldn’t do to upset the  _ Fleimkepa _ further when he was already so agitated. “I want to hear  _ Klark’s _ opinion before I take action. Nia’s actions tonight involve her and her people, too.”

Titus’ visceral reaction at the mention of Clarke’s name was more than obvious. He opened his mouth to protest, but Lexa shook her head to stop him. “No, Titus. I will not hear you speak against her. I am aware you believe her to be a danger to me, but she is even more dangerous as my enemy.”

“She may still be your enemy,  _ Heda, _ ” Titus said in a dark whisper. “She has not forgiven you for your actions at the Mountain, and she only allies with you now to preserve her own people.”

“Precisely,” Lexa said. “ _ Klark _ serves her people, just as I serve mine…which includes Skaikru now. This time, our goals are the same.”

“You may consider _ Skaikru’s _ people to be yours now, but I guarantee you, she does not feel the same about the rest of us. If someone else were to convince  _ Wanheda _ that her people would benefit from your removal from power, or even your death—”

Once more, Lexa felt the urge to sigh. “Let us be clear with each other, Titus. We both know of whom you speak.”

Titus did not get the chance to say her name. The door to the throne room opened, and Clarke entered, bringing a slight draft with her that made the candles flicker in their braziers. Lexa shuddered, but not from cold. Clarke’s presence always seemed to press in around her from all sides, and had from their first meeting.  _ Wanheda _ was a force all her own, one that defied description.

“Leave us,” she said to Titus, who seemed both offended and disappointed by the pronouncement. He seemed about to protest, but she hardened her face, forcing him into submission through silence alone.

He left, although not before muttering, “I hope you know what you are doing,” and giving her a particularly disapproving look. He passed Clarke on the way, and Lexa noted that the two of them did not make eye contact, although Clarke glanced back over her shoulder in suspicion as Titus continued out into the hall. His dark robes billowing behind him like an ominous storm cloud. 

Once the guards closed the doors, the two of them were left alone. Their soft thud sent a jolt through Lexa’s heart, and it took an effort of will to calm her breathing. As usual, Clarke had her on edge. Fortunately, she had ample practice controlling her responses, both physical and mental. She descended from the dais to meet Clarke on even ground, coming to a stop before her.

“You told me to meet you here,” Clarke said, in her usual low rasp. “Why?” Her businesslike attitude was no surprise.

“For two reasons,” Lexa replied. She swallowed, noting the lump in her throat. If she didn’t know better, she would think she was nervous. “First, thank you for staying.”

If Clarke was surprised by that, it did not show on her face. Her answer was flat, almost routine. “I stayed because it was the right thing for my people.”

“Our people,” Lexa interrupted. The sooner Clarke began thinking of  _ Skaikru _ as part of the coalition, and Lexa as their leader and protector, the easier it would be to achieve peace, and defend against Nia, if need be.

Clarke took another step, her blue eyes somehow both dark and bright at once in the dimly lit room. The muscles in her face tensed, as did her already stiff shoulders. “If you betray me again…”

“I won’t.” Lexa shook her head, willing Clarke to believe her. The only response she received was a strangely painful silence.

_ I need you to believe me. Please, Klark. Otherwise, this alliance is doomed, and so are our people. _ Another voice, so soft Lexa almost missed it, added:  _ And so are we. _

With a deep breath, Lexa dropped to her knees.

It was a position  _ Heda _ should never adopt, but one she assumed without hesitation. This was not about her pride or her title. It was about getting Clarke to trust her, because without that foundation, all would be lost. As a servant-leader, she would do what needed to be done for the sake of peace, protocol or not.

As she knelt, her eyes remained locked on Clarke’s face, watching her expression shift from a guarded wariness to complete shock. A quiet voice whispered in the back of her head, warning her that she was vulnerable in this position, spitting that this was a mistake. Heda did not bow to anyone. That had been one of her lessons before the Spirit of the Commander chose her to lead. But it was different with Clarke. It had been from their very first meeting. Lexa had seen something, sensed something when Clarke walked into her tent for the first time, a power behind her blue eyes that Lexa wasn’t sure Clarke was even aware of yet. 

A beat passed between them before Lexa spoke. “I swear fealty to you,  _ Klark kom Skaikru _ . I vow to treat your needs as my own, and your people as my people.” She never broke eye contact, needing Clarke to understand this wasn’t something she promised lightly. A small part of her wished Clarke would see through her words and know they meant more than confirmation of her loyalty to their alliance, but she did not dare to hope.

Silence fell over the room for what felt like an eternity. All Lexa could hear was the throbbing of her own heartbeat, a war drum inside of her chest. She waited to see if Clarke would turn away from her, dismiss her with the cold demeanor  _ Wanheda _ had adopted since her arrival in Polis. Perhaps this had been for nothing?

Then, at last, Clarke’s hand reached out toward her—-a silent offer. As Lexa took Clarke’s hand, reveling in the warmth of the touch, she finally broke her gaze. She looked at their joined hands, allowing Clarke to help her back to her feet. Their hands remained touching only long enough for Lexa to stand, nothing more than an unspoken gesture of understanding. They were on equal ground, as leaders and as allies.

Lexa looked back up. Clarke’s blue eyes were filled with questions, and it was time to answer them, even if it meant dredging up memories she had entombed long ago. “I want to talk about Nia,” she began, rolling her shoulders and folding her hands behind her back. “I believe she has come here to kill me.”

“Her entrance made that pretty obvious.” Although Clarke did not smile, most of the tension that usually surrounded her had faded. Lexa was fairly certain Clarke had moved past imagining all sorts of different ways to kill her during their conversations. “Tell me about her.”

Lexa swallowed heavily, knowing she wouldn’t only be talking about Nia, but someone she had tried to forget. “She is the Queen of Azgeda, the Ice Nation.” 

“I know that,” Clarke said. “I was hiding out on Azgeda’s border. Tell me more.”

Lexa nodded. “There is a reason for Azgeda’s ruthless reputation. It is because that is how Nia leads. She will do whatever is necessary to break this coalition and have me killed.”

Clarke’s eyes widened in surprise. “She was the one who captured Costia.” 

Lexa smiled sadly as she heard the realization in Clarke’s voice. She was always thinking, piecing together every detail of a story without being directed. It was one of the many reasons Lexa knew Clarke was so special. “Yes. Nia captured her. Held her in Azgeda for weeks trying to learn my secrets.” Her voice trailed off, and she turned away, unwilling to let Clarke see the tears filling her eyes. “Costia was strong. She was always so strong…”

“What happened?” Clarke asked softly.

“One morning, before the sun had peeked over the mountains, a large crate arrived from the Ice Nation.” Lexa walked over to the large window behind her throne as she spoke, trying to keep her composure. “It was brought to me while I was still in my chambers.” A familiar, unwelcome ache consumed her heart, and she clenched her jaw, willing the surge of emotion back. 

The echo of footsteps behind her told her that Clarke had followed, but she remained facing outward, gazing up at the night sky, watching the stars blur through the shimmering coat of her tears.

“The Queen had sent me her head, along with a note explaining how Costia had broken a law of Azgeda. The coalition was still new, and the peace the had formed between the clans was fragile. She knew there was nothing I could do in that moment to retaliate. If I went to war against the Ice Nation to avenge a secret lover, it would undo everything I had worked toward.” 

Lexa sniffed once, blinking back her tears, then turned back to Clarke once she had regained her composure. “Nia craves power. She wants to rule over all the clans, and there is no line she will not cross to achieve her goal. She would kill her own son without a second thought.” 

“Roan,” Clarke said, her brow furrowing. “If he’s Nia’s son, why did he bring me to you instead of her?”   
  
“Because Roan is no longer a prince, nor is he Nia’s heir,” Lexa replied, relieved to be talking about politics rather than Costia. “He has been banished from his clan and exiled from his homeland. He knows that, were I to remove Nia from power in order to protect myself, I would undo his banishment and place him on Azgeda’s throne.”   
  
A frown pulled at Clarke’s mouth. “So why haven’t you done that?”   
  
“It is… complicated.” Lexa squared her shoulders, adopting the posture of Heda once more. “Nia has many supporters among the coalition, and my grasp over the ambassadors and clan leaders has weakened. I left your people to die at the Mountain, but you overcame what we could not in generations. The other clans are afraid of  _ Skaikru’s _ power, and of you,  _ Wanheda _ .”   
  
“Clarke.”   
  
Lexa’s eyebrows lifted.  _ “Klark.” _   
  
“So, they consider us a threat? Why invite us to join the coalition, then?”   
  
“So they will stop considering you a threat,” Lexa said. “I have no desire to see Skaikru wiped out. You have tek that could improve the lives of every clan in the coalition. I suspect that is one reason Nia is so interested in using you to shift the balance of power.”   
  
“‘You’ as in  _ Skaikru _ , or ‘you’ as in me?” Clarke asked, eyes narrowed.   
  
“Yes.”   
  
Shadows flickered across Clarke’s face from the light of the braziers, highlighting her look of worry. “She wants to use me, too.”   
  
Had she not been so well-trained, Lexa might have winced at the word ‘too’. But it was true. She was using Clarke, even if it was for the betterment of both their peoples. “Yes. But Nia will use you for her own ends. For all you may hate me, you know my goal is not to wield power for power’s sake.”   
  
Clarke heaved a sigh. “I know.”   
  
Lexa swallowed, preparing herself. “Then I must ask for your trust once more, Klark… and place my trust in you.”   
  
She waited for a protest, but none came. Clarke seemed resigned as she said, “Tell me what you need me to do.”   
  
“Nia will try to manipulate you. She is violent, but also clever. Her words are as dangerous as her sword. Let her believe for a while that you are entertaining thoughts of allying with her. She will tempt you. She will say horrible things about me, and try to convince you that Skaikru would be better off with her in charge of the Coalition.”   
  
“The girl,” Clarke said. “The one who came with Nia to the ceremony.”   
  
“Ontari,” Lexa said. “She is Nia’s ward. The thought has crossed my mind that Nia might be grooming her as my replacement, but that is impossible. There are strict criteria for becoming the next Commander, ones this girl cannot meet.”   
  
A wrinkle formed in Clarke’s forehead. “What criteria?”   
  
“That is information I cannot reveal. However, just because Ontari is unsuitable to replace me does not mean Nia will not try. Or perhaps she has some other plan. That is why I need you, Klark.”   
  
“I’ll do it,” Clarke said, so swiftly it took Lexa by surprised.   
  
“You seem certain of your decision,” she murmured, studying Clarke closely. However, she could find no trace of doubt or anger in Clarke’s face. Her expression was, if anything, sad, although Lexa could not be sure. Clarke was often difficult to read. “May I ask why?”   
  
Clarke replied with a question of her own. “Did you expect me to say no?”   
  
“I considered the possibility,” Lexa admitted. “You owe me no favors.”   
  
Clarke’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m not doing it for you.”   
  
For some reason, those words caused a hollowness to grow in Lexa’s chest. “Of course. For your people.”   
  
There was a long pause where neither of them said anything. They simply stared at each other as cool night air blew in through the open window that led to the balcony, sharing a conversation without words.   
  
Clarke was the one to break the silence. “I’m sorry.”   
  
Lexa’s breathing picked up, the only reaction of surprise she allowed herself. “For?”   
  
“I’ve done plenty of things I’m sorry for, but none of them to you. I mean about Costia.”   
  
“Oh.”   
  
That one word, ‘oh’, sounded small in the vastness of the throne room, but it was all Lexa could think of to say. It wasn’t often she found herself shocked, or at a loss for words, but this had been completely unexpected. She knew Clarke could be empathetic, but she had not expected that empathy to be directed toward her. It was her fault, after all, that Clarke had been forced to kill her own lover.   
  
“She has gone to the other shore. Her existence there is more peaceful than it would have been with me.”   
  
Clarke dipped her chin slightly in acknowledgment. “Good night, Commander,” she whispered. “I’ll speak with you when I have more information.”   
  
Lexa nodded. “Very well. Good night,  _ Klark _ .”   
  
Although she expected it when Clarke turned away, heading for the doors to the throne room, Lexa did not expect the wave of exhaustion that crashed over upon her departure. She had every reason to be tired, but this was something different. It was an old sadness that lived in her bones, lying in wait to sap all her energy when she needed it most.   
  
She had to bury Costia again. Nia was a threat, and she could not let her feelings cloud her judgment. She had paid the price for that more than once already.   
  
_ Nia is not the only danger to you,  _ a voice in Lexa’s head whispered, one that sounded like Titus.  _ Clarke is dangerous, too.  _ Deep within herself, Lexa knew she did not fear that Clarke would betray her, although there were several logical reasons she might. She feared Clarke for other reasons. Reasons that were unsettlingly familiar.   
  
She stepped out onto the balcony and looked up toward the stars, allowing the night breeze to caress her face.  _ Guard yourself, Lexa. You know where your weakness lies. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, you can follow us on tumblr @raedmagdon and @anonfanfic

Clarke tossed and turned throughout the night, unable to reach even the edges of sleep. Every time she shut her eyes, she saw visions of Mount Weather and the lives she had taken there. Her conversation with Lexa the night before had dug up ghostly memories she’d tried hard to bury during her three months in the wilderness, and putting them back to rest in their graves was nearly impossible now that they’d been unearthed.

When sharp beams of sunlight cut across her face, heralding daybreak at last, Clarke sat up in bed with a heavy sigh. She had hoped the morning would bring clarity to her current situation, but her body was numb with exhaustion and her mind was at ends. She was only certain of one thing: she wanted to do what was best for her people. Now that she was done playing hermit, they had to come first.

_You’re not the only one with that priority._

The same whisper she had heard before the ceremony floated across Clarke’s mind. She tried to shut it out, watching the golden morning light spread across the stone floor in glowing stripes, but her attempts at distracting herself failed. She was a leader again, someone with heavy responsibilities. Just like Lexa.

_You both want to see your people survive. Now your people are one and the same._

Clarke wiped her face, rubbing the exhaustion from her eyes through force of will. Putting off her meeting with Nia wouldn’t do any good — and when she met the Ice Queen, Clarke knew she would need to impress. She had to channel a power within herself, the same power she had tapped into at the mountain…a power that scared her.

_Wanheda._

This whisper was different than before. Harsh and rough. Judgmental. Clarke shoved the blankets off and rolled out of bed. She wanted to get away from that voice, even though she knew it was always with her. Would always be.

Clarke dressed in a hurry, her movements quick and purposeful, but thinking of Nia’s scarred face and piercing blue eyes made her heart skip with uncertainty. This was an enemy that loomed over not just Arkadia, but all twelve—now thirteen—clans. Lexa, the coalition, and her people were counting on her. She couldn’t let them down.  

Appropriately clothed in one of the outfits Lexa had provided, Clarke flipped up the hood of her cloak and stepped into the hall. The guard waiting beyond the door did not come as a surprise, and Clarke did not protest as he followed behind her. Surely this protective detail was Lexa’s doing — and they would likely have words about it later.

Clarke stopped and turned, offering the guard a sigh of resignation. “If you’re going to follow me, make yourself useful and tell me where the Ice Queen is staying.”

 _“Azplana?”_ The guard looked hesitant, and Clarke sized him up more thoroughly. He was young, obviously trained as a warrior judging by his scars and sun-browned countenance, but he seemed wary of her stare. Unfortunately, that sort of reaction was to be expected from most strangers these days. She was the Commander of Death now, after all.

_What good is being Wanheda if I can’t put her to use?_

“Yes. Tell me where she is.”

The guard’s inward debate played across his face, but at last, he gave in. “Come with me, _Wanheda.”_ He started down the hall again, and Clarke followed at a carefully measured distance.

The further they went from her room, the harder Clarke’s heart pounded. Her ribs rattled with each heavy thud, and she had to slow her breaths. She was not too proud to admit that Nia frightened her. Nia frightened _Lexa,_ and that knowledge alone was unnerving. At last, the guard stopped in front of a door made of thick wood, with decorative iron bars. If this was a guest room, it was unlike the accommodations she had been provided with.

Clarke walked past the guard, leaving him behind in the shadows, and stood in front of the door, lifting her hand to knock. After three sharp raps that left her knuckles tingling, she heard muffled voices from within before the door opened just enough to reveal half of someone’s face. Even with an obscured view, Clarke knew who it was. _Ontari._ That was what Lexa had called Nia’s mysterious ward last night.

 _“Chit?”_ the young girl asked sharply, not moving from her position. Her dark eyes scanned Clarke with nothing short of disdain—an oddly powerful reaction, coming from a complete stranger. As far as Clarke knew, neither Nia nor Azgeda had reason to hate her.

“I need to speak with Nia.” Clarke kept her tone even and strong. She refused to look away from Ontari’s sharp features, observing the intricate scarring that was much more visible now than it had been in the dim throne room.

Ontari tilted her head to the side, and a small smile spread across her face. The scars manipulating her features made the expression all the more menacing. “The _Queen_ has no time for you,” she said, emphasizing the word that Clarke had purposefully left out of her request. “She has more important matters to deal with while in Polis.”

“I have information your Queen will be interest in,” Clarke countered.

Ontari’s eyes flashed dangerously, but her objections were cut off by another voice from beyond the door.

“Let her pass.”

Ontari’s lips curled, but she obeyed and opened the door wider.

Clarke gave a small nod, walking past her and into the small, sparsely decorated room. It was less grand than her own accommodations—probably one of the only petty things Lexa could get away with doing to Nia that wouldn’t actually start a war. Considering she herself had been a prisoner, and Nia was ostensibly a Queen, Clarke did find it somewhat amusing.

The Ice Queen sat at the end of a long table that took up most of the space, with what appeared to be lunch in front of her. A large bed covered in furs lay to her left, and a smaller cot had been placed to one side.

“What information do you have for me, _Wanheda_?” Nia asked, using a sharp knife to slice an apple that she held in her hand.

Clarke watched the precise movements of the blade as Nia cut a strip of skin from the apple, letting it fall to the floor. _Are those the same hands that tortured Costia and cut off her head?_ Clarke had no idea whether Nia was the type of leader who preferred to mete out punishments herself, or delegate the task to someone else.   
  
“That depends on what you’re looking for,” Clarke said carefully, holding Nia’s eyes. She kept her shoulders straight and her chin upright, unwilling to show fear or weakness, but neither did she step forward into Nia’s space. This would be a careful dance, and she needed to be cautious. “You’ve heard of _Wanheda_ , but you don’t know anything Clarke Griffin. So I’ll tell you what you need to know about her. All I care about is protecting my people.”   
  
Nia arched a curious brow. She didn’t look impressed, but Clarke hadn’t expected her to. “And how does this concern me?”   
  
“Because,” Clarke said, “I think you might be better equipped to do that than Lexa.”   
  
Nia’s eyes flashed with interest. “Why should I believe you?”   
  
“Why shouldn’t you?” Clarke replied. “You have the strongest army among the Thirteen Clans. You have the fiercest warriors. You have the respect of the coalition… something Lexa doesn’t have anymore, since I brought down the Mountain. What good is an alliance of protection with a weak leader who owes us nothing?”   
  
“If you think Lexa is weak, then you do not know her as well as you say you do. She is vulnerable, yes, but…” She paused, letting the word dangle. “Do you know how _Heda_ is chosen, Clarke Griffin?”   
  
Clarke shook her head.   
  
“In trial by combat. The _natblidas_ selected spend years training to fight each other to the death. At the last conclave, Lexa was victorious.”   
  
Clarke masked her confusion before it could show on her face. She had no idea what ‘nightbloods’ were, but it would be foolish to let Nia know of her ignorance. It was bad enough she had admitted to not knowing about the ‘conclave’. _Those are questions for Lexa later... but apparently, whatever the nightbloods are, she’s one of them. And she killed other people to earn her title._   
  
“I know Lexa is a fierce warrior,” Clarke said, trying to cover up her lapse. “That isn’t what I meant. But she betrayed me once because she couldn’t bear to see some of her people die. How do I know she won’t do the same thing again?”   
  
Nia’s expression turned sly, calculating. She paused in peeling the apple and bit into one of the slices, chewing thoughtfully. Then she said, “You don’t. But you could say the same about me. Why do you see me as a safer alternative?” Although she did not laugh, she seemed almost amused. “Azgeda is a strong ally to have, the strongest in the world, but few would call me trustworthy.”   
  
“I don’t need you to be trustworthy,” Clarke said. This was it—she had to sell this, or Nia would slip from her grasp. “I need you to be smart. You know _Skaikru_ has technology beyond anything you can imagine. We can heal people, pull them back from the brink of death. Our weapons are far more powerful than anything Azgeda and the other nations have. We can communicate instantly across long distances. We know about genetics, for farming and—”   
  
“Genetics?” Nia asked. “We do not have that word.”   
  
“Genetics,” Clarke repeated. “It’s…” She paused, struggling to find a metaphor that Nia would understand. “Every living thing is made up of tiny parts called cells, so small you can’t see them with your eyes. Each of those cells has a list inside that tells the cell how to build you. Genetics decide your hair color, your eyes, how tall you are. It’s all decided before you’re even born.”   
  
Nia appeared to grow more interested. “And these genetics, what do you use them for?”   
  
“All kinds of things. To breed animals, to cure diseases, to grow better plants—”   
  
“To grow better people?”   
  
Clarke’s blood ran cold. In the back of her mind, the strategist within her had wondered if perhaps Nia could, in fact, be a better ally to _Skaikru_ than Lexa. But the way Nia had so casually and unknowingly come around to the subject of eugenics was horrifying.   
  
“Sometimes.”

Nia flipped the knife in her hand, jamming the blade into the wooden table in front of her with a dull thud. Her gaze flicked over to Ontari, who had been standing in the corner quietly. “We may be able to find common ground.” Nia stood up slowly from the table, placing both of her palms flat in front of her. “Your people will have the protection of Azgeda’s army, and in return, you will share these tools for…genetics?” The last word rolled off her tongue in a strange way, her mouth seemingly unsure how to form it.

“If _Azgeda_ and _Skaikru_ become allies, all of our tek will be at your disposal,” Clarke offered.

“And I assume you have the authority to fulfill such a promise.”

“Of course,” Clarke lied.

Nia’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “I have one other requirement to complete this alliance.”

“And this requirement is?” Clarke asked, trying her best to look indifferent.

Nia sat down once again and lifted her hands in front of her, templing her fingers. “You.” The corners of her mouth curled up into a wicked smile. “I require you, _Wanheda_. You will return with us to Azgeda and train with our warriors. We need to make sure you are as capable as the stories that follow you say.”

Clarke crossed her arms, considering what Nia was demanding of her. She knew that Nia was most certainly plotting something, but if she declined Nia’s request, it would end any chance she had to get information about Azgeda’s plans. She needed time to think…but her first thoughts were of Lexa. _She’ll have some idea what Nia’s play might be._ But Lexa was not here. She needed to offer an answer now, on her own.

“Fine.” Clarke dropped her arms, then reached out, yanking the knife from the table. “But I need some assurances before I agree to leave.” She rolled the handle between her fingers, a trick she had learned from a lonely innkeeper who had been smart enough not to ask questions. Her eyes remained on Nia. “No harm is to come to my people.”

If Nia was impressed by the knife trick, she concealed it well. Her fingers intertwined in front of her. “Of course not.”

“And me?” Clarke stopped the knife’s movement, taking one more step forward so she was in Nia’s space.

“If we are allies, I have no need to kill you. At this time, _Wanheda_ is more valuable to me alive.”

Clarke nodded slowly. _“Oso tai choda op kom jus.”_ She lifted the knife to her hand and slid it swiftly across her skin. The sharp blade cut deep into her palm, but she refused to show any sign of discomfort. She passed the blade over to Nia, holding her hand palm-up so none of her blood dripped onto the dark wood of the table below.

Nia followed suit, cutting a short line across her palm. _“Oso tai choda op kom jus,”_ she repeated, clasping Clarke’s palm in a bond sewn together by blood.

After they parted, Clarke grabbed a piece of cloth from the table, presumably an unused napkin for Nia’s lunch, and wrapped it around her hand. “I’ll return tomorrow to discuss joining you in Azgeda.”

“Very well.” Nia snapped her fingers toward Ontari, and the girl hurried forward, a clean cloth already in hand.

Without waiting, Clarke turned and exited the room, trying to guess where Lexa might be. They needed to talk as soon as possible.

* * *

The heavy wooden door closed with a loud scrape against its frame. When Ontari heard the click of the handle, she knew they were truly alone. “My Queen,” she began, her dark eyes concentrating on tending to Nia’s cut while her mind was in a far more distant place, “forgive me, but it may not be in our best interests to trust someone who has been close with the Commander.”

Nia jerked her hand away, and Ontari flinched reflexively. She knew she was speaking out of turn, but her Mistress’s conversation with _Wanheda_ had left her feeling anxious—about the future of Azgeda, and about her own position.

“It is _because_ she has been close with Lexa that she will be the perfect ally…and possibly the perfect _natblida_ to help Azgeda finally gain control of the coalition.” Nia’s eyes remained focused on something Ontari could not see, blazing with a power that sent a chill up her spine.

“Is that not what you have been training me for?” Ontari protested. Nia had taken her and her brother from her parents as babes and raised them as warriors, telling them constantly about their rightful place as _Heda_ to their people. Now, in just a matter of moments, Ontari’s entire future had changed—and she knew all too well what happened to those whom Nia no longer considered useful.

“Are you unwilling to yield your position for the good of our people?” Nia’s words were as sharp as the blade she had been holding before.

Ontari looked up with lightning in her eyes, but kept her voice soft, speaking with nothing more than a shadow of sound. “Of course, _Azplana,_ but how do we know this is for the best?”

Nia rose from her chair and stood to her full height, towering over Ontari. “Are you questioning my decisions?” she snarled, her uninjured hand gripping the edge of the table. “Do you recall what happened to your brother when he began to question me?”

Ontari dropped her gaze and fell silent. Her brother, Dmitri, had only been two years older than her. When he grew old enough, he had begun to question their role, and the Queen herself. One morning before training, she had come upon her brother’s body lying on the ground, covered in deep cuts that fed into a wide pool of blood.

Nia’s voice interrupted the memory. “I do not want that fate for you, Ontari,” she murmured, cupping Ontari’s face softly. “If you remain useful to me, you will be rewarded greatly, but if you continue to question me, you will be severely punished. Do you understand?”

Without pulling away from the caress, Ontari nodded. She tasted the copper tinge of blood as she bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from saying something she would regret. She had never mourned her brother—warriors did not let such emotions cloud their minds—but she had feared Nia since that day, and the Queen knew her feelings.

“Yes, _Azplana._ I understand.”

Nia withdrew her hand, stepping away and turning toward the room’s lone window. Although there was only one, it was large, allowing the afternoon sunlight to stream across the Queen’s face. It did little to soften her expression.  
  
“You are right to be wary of _Wanheda_ ,” Nia said, gazing out across the city of Polis. From her place by the table, Ontari could not see the view, but she did not need to. She was very aware that they were in the house of the enemy, and that if things went badly for her Mistress, they would go doubly so for her.   
  
“If you believe that,” she asked, “why are you considering her as Lexa’s replacement?”   
  
A thin smirk crossed Nia’s face. “You have learned well, Ontari. You are a _natblida,_ and the fiercest warrior I have ever trained—but _Wanheda_ is something else entirely. The commoners look upon her as a god. With Death on my leash, no one will dare question my claim to the throne.”   
  
_If you can even put her on a leash,_ Ontari thought, but did not dare say.   
  
Nia seemed to read her mind. “Allying ourselves with _Skaikru_ and _Wanheda_ is a risky proposition. They might betray us to improve their own standing…which is why I still need you, my loyal child.”   
  
Ontari’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, but she schooled her expression. Instead of asking one of the many questions racing through her mind, she waited for further instructions.   
  
Nia turned away from the window, the hems of her furs whispering across the floor. “I am entrusting you with an important task. From this moment on, you will shadow the Sky Girl. You will track her movements, listen to her conversations, and seek to understand her motives. If _Wanheda_ can be brought under my control, I will take the necessary actions to install her upon the throne, and you will be greatly rewarded. If not…”   
  
Ontari dipped her head in understanding. “I will claim her power for myself, My Queen, so you may use me in her stead.”   
  
“Indeed.” Nia took a step forward, placing her uninjured hand on Ontari’s shoulder. “I understand you may feel some disappointment. You have trained for this role your entire life, and now, our plans are changing. But I promise you this: your actions are essential to ensuring Azgeda’s rightful place as the leader of the Coalition.”   
  
Ontari looked up into Nia’s eyes, swallowing to work the tightness from her throat. “I understand.”   
  
“You will,” Nia said. “ _Klark kom Skaikru_ is a dangerous weapon, one we must claim for our own. But weapons require wielders, and when I am gone, that weapon will pass to you, as will Azgeda’s armies—armies improved by _Skaikru’s_ tek, armed with _Skaikru’s_ weapons. You will wield that strength, Ontari, regardless of whether you ascend the throne or not. The real power is always behind it.”   
  
Some of the tightness in Ontari’s chest eased, but only a little. Despite Nia’s assurances (and threats), this change in plan was unsettling. However, she would do her Mistress’s bidding… for now.   
  
“It shall be unto your will, _Azplana_ . I will seek to understand the Sky Girl and report all I witness.”   
  
“Good.” Nia removed her hand from Ontari’s shoulder, waving toward the door. “Go to your task. If you deem it too dangerous to follow her closely, question some of the guards about her comings and goings. Sometimes, they can be very useful sources of information.”   
  
With a bow, Ontari departed, pulling her cloak around her shoulders and slipping through the door. Her heart was heavy as it closed behind her. She did not wish to step forward into such an uncertain future, and yet, she had no choice. As she took to the hallway, her mind flashed to her brother’s dead eyes.   
  
She would not die. No, she would survive—no matter what it took.

***

Lexa lingered just outside Clarke’s door, gathering the courage to knock. She was no coward, and never had been. From childhood on, she had been trained to control her emotions, to remain calm and collected in order to do what needed to be done. As she stood in the hall, however, heels pressed together, hands folded stiffly behind her back, all her training deserted her. Her efforts to calm her racing heart and steady her breathing were practically useless.  
  
_You cannot stand out here forever,_ she told herself, but try as she might, she failed to pry her feet from the floor. She knew from interrogating her guards—whom she had sent to the far ends of the hallway to achieve some small amount of privacy—that Clarke had spoken to Nia as planned, but part of her was afraid to hear the results of that meeting.   
  
She was afraid for reasons other than the constant danger Nia represented.   
  
Clarke. It always came back to Clarke. Lexa was not merely worried that Nia would make an attempt on her life. That was inevitable, sooner or later. Rather, she feared that Clarke, whom she had betrayed at the Mountain, would betray her in turn.   
  
_Clarke is not ruled by her desire for vengeance. She cares for her people above all else. She knows I will risk everything to defend them, while Nia will only use them._

Those facts were all true, but not reassuring. Lexa could not quite put her finger on what then, exactly, had her so unsettled. It teased at the edges of her mind, but when she reached for it, she found only Clarke’s face—only the wounded look Clarke had shot at her before she had turned and left Skaikru to breach the Mountain’s gates themselves.  
  
_You wish for Clarke’s genuine loyalty, but feel you do not deserve it._

Tightening her jaw, Lexa managed to raise her arm. Speaking with Clarke was vastly preferable to ruminating on her own thoughts. The knock sounded loud and hollow in the hallway, and then a muffled voice called out, “Come in.”

Lexa took a deep breath in through her nose and felt the air sting her dry throat. She pulled the handle down, listening as the door swung ajar with a stubborn creak. When it opened, her eyes went directly to where Clarke was standing by the large window. Clarke turned to face her, and though Lexa’s heart was already pounding inside of her chest, it hammered harder, begging to be released from the confines of her ribs.

“You met with Nia?” she asked.

Clarke nodded. “I did. It went well, relatively speaking.”

Lexa could tell Clarke was being distant and vague on purpose. “Well?” she urged, trying to get a better understanding of where Clarke’s head was in all of this.

Clarke pursed her lips. “She wants me to go back with her to Azgeda. To see how powerful _Wanheda_ truly is as an ally.” Her blue eyes were intense, but within them, Lexa saw a shimmer of doubt.

She mustered all the self-control she could and nodded stiffly. “Then you must go back with her.” Mild shock registered on Clarke’s face at the statement, and Lexa stepped closer. She could feel the walls she had put up around herself start to crack as she gazed into Clarke’s eyes. “Did you expect me to respond differently?”

Clarke’s surprise shifted to annoyance. “I don’t know.”

“If Nia is to truly trust you, then this is what needs to be done. I know you can do this.”

“Fine. But if I’m going to do this, I need to be able to communicate with you.” With little preamble, Clarke walked over to the bed and reached under the pillows. She pulled out two small, black rectangular objects that Lexa recognized as Skaikru _tek_. “Here,” Clarke said, walking over and handing Lexa one of the objects. “Raven boosted the distance of our two-way radios. Azgeda should be in their range.”

Lexa took the _tek_ from Clarke. It was heavier than she had thought it would be — smooth too, and cool to the touch. She turned the box over in her hand, examining the buttons and knobs carefully. Titus had always warned her about using _tek_. The Mountain had used things like this against them, and now here she was, holding it in her hands.

“How does it work?” she asked, still hesitant and holding it at a distance from her body.

Clarke smiled at her, not the condescending smile that Lexa would have expected from someone who had grown up around things like this, but the warm smile of someone who wanted to teach and found happiness in it.

“You turn it on here.” Clarke pointed to one of the knobs. “When you want to talk to me, press this button.” Her fingers hovered over where Lexa’s hand rested on the side of the box. Slowly, they pressed over Lexa’s hand, and all at once, time slowed down.

Clarke’s hand stayed over Lexa’s for a little longer than necessary. Both of them looked up at the same time, wearing matching expressions of surprise and another, deeper emotion that neither one seemed willing to acknowledge. The knot that had been inside of Lexa’s stomach since she’d first stood outside Clarke’s room tightened further. It had been a long time since she had felt such stirring within her, and she did not dare name it.

Clarke cleared her throat and moved her hand back. “We’ll have to be careful about using these.” She blinked, trying to regain her composure. “I’ll check in every night at sundown. Just have your line open and I’ll contact you.”

Lexa nodded, not trusting her voice. She and Clarke stared at each other for a long time, reminding her of the previous night, when she had made her vow. “Just…come back safely,” she said at last, faltering only on the first word. She swallowed heavily, her emotions threatening to sweep her away.

The corners of Clarke’s mouth twitched upward. “I’ll do my best.”

Lexa held out her arm, attempting to keep her expression neutral. “May we meet again.”

Clarke grasped her forearm in return. “May we meet again,” she repeated softly.

Once again, the touch lasted a few moments longer than necessary. The air between them was charged, and Lexa swore she felt something tingling in the tips of her fingers. A familiar sensation burned in her chest, and the voice in the back of her head whispered, _‘Maybe someday’._


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're enjoying the plot, please leave a review! :D You can also follow us @raedmagdon and @anonfanfic on tumblr.

**** “You can’t be serious,” Abby said, her voice flat and unyielding. She paced through Clarke’s room, walking the same path between the bed and the window with urgent footsteps that slapped on the stone. “Azgeda? Clarke, you aren’t thinking straight.”   
  
Clarke resisted the obvious joke. Even in times of great stress, sometimes the old Clarke—the one who had lived on the Ark before her father’s death, who had gazed down at the spinning blue ball of Earth and imagined the lustrous wonders below—still spoke up in the back of her mind. That Clarke’s comments were usually silly, unhelpful, and naive, but they did ease some of the tightness in her chest.   
  
“I’ve thought this through,” she replied instead, holding her mother’s gaze. “I promise. Lexa needs me to do this—”   
  
“We needed her at the Mount Weather,” Abby said, her eyes narrowing with an old anger. “Where was she then?”   
  
“Protecting her people,” Clarke shot back. “Like I’m trying to protect ours.”   
  
Abby still didn’t look convinced, so Clarke closed in, chin held high with certainty. “I know Lexa betrayed us. That pain cut deep—so deep I couldn’t look any of you in the eye for three months, since I was the one who started negotiations with her in the first place.”   
  
She noted that her mother’s own eyes darted sideways for a split second. Obviously, Abby didn’t like to consider the three months Clarke had been gone.   
  
“I’m doing this for us, Mom. Lexa asked, but I chose. I’m helping the Arkers by figuring out what Azgeda is up to. Nia’s a psychopath, and if she manages to overtake Lexa…it’s going to be a nightmare. People will die on a scale we haven’t seen yet. I can’t have any more blood on my hands.”   
  
Abby remained silent for several moments, and Clarke saw signs of an internal war written on her face: tight lips, creased eyes, hard jaw. At last, her mother said, “People don’t change, Clarke. Their beliefs…everyone’s beliefs are a part of them.”   
  
Clarke didn’t need her mother to spell out who she was really talking about. Jake had followed his beliefs to the very end, even at the cost of his own life. He had been willing to leave behind a wife and child for his convictions, and in Lexa, Clarke saw something frighteningly similar. Lexa had a self-sacrificing streak a mile wide, and would do anything to protect her people.   
  
_ But we’re her people now. Which means she’ll protect us. _   
  
“I don’t like her, Mom, but I respect her. I believe her. When she said we were part of the Coalition the other night, she meant it. Lexa is a woman of her word. Nia isn’t.”   
  
Abby looked as though she wanted badly to protest, but she sighed instead. “I should tell you it’s foolish to believe that after she betrayed us.”   
  
“But you won’t?”   
  
“I won’t. Would you listen anyway?”   
  
Abby turned away to gaze out the window, folding her arms across her chest. “It’s difficult for me, Clarke,” she said, still facing the other direction. “You don’t realize it, but you’re so young. All this? War, betrayal, espionage, death… they aren’t something anyone should experience, let alone a—” She stopped herself, laughing sadly. “I can’t call you a child anymore, can I?”   
  
Despite the tension between them, Clarke laughed. “I’m still your daughter. You’re allowed to be worried about me. I’d be sad if you weren’t.”   
  
“But you’re going to go,” Abby said. She turned back around, and though her expression was wounded, she had a wistful smile on her face that was almost…proud? Clarke could scarcely believe it, but there it was, aimed straight at her. “You have so much of your father in you.”   
  
Without being prompted, Clarke stepped forward to join Abby at the window. She wasn’t sure which of them opened their arms first, but then they were embracing, holding each other close in a way that was both familiar and new. It had been a long, long time since they had done this, but it brought Clarke a sense of peace—peace she had never thought she would feel again during her months in the wilderness. The smell of her mother wasn’t quite the same as it had been on the Ark. Her clothes were different, just like a lot of other things. But there was a tinge of warm, floral perfume that remained the same. She supposed her mother still had some tucked away somewhere.   
  
“I’m not telling anyone else about this,” Clarke whispered in her mother’s ear. “Not Raven, Monty, Octavia, or Bellamy. Just you and Lexa. I gave her a radio so we could keep in touch. When you think it’s safe, ask her to use it. She’ll say yes.”   
  
With one more squeeze, Abby let her go. “Maybe people can change a little,” she said. “At least you’re keeping in touch this time.”   
  
Clarke nodded, a little sheepishly. It had been a long time since she’d felt her true age, but the thought that she was only eighteen suddenly came rushing back with a vengeance. She’d been through so much that it was easy to forget, but in that moment, she didn’t want to leave her mother. Part of her yearned to stay with Abby, with Lexa…an emotion she quickly quashed.   
  
“Well, I always wanted to wander Earth when I was a kid. I just didn’t think I’d have so many near-death experiences.”   
  
Abby groaned. “Don’t say that just before you’re about to leave again. Clarke, I swear…”   
  
Clarke hugged her mother again, only for a few seconds this time, but long enough to make her love known. “I’m coming back, Mom. I’ve got this. It’s the right thing to do.” She hesitated, then cleared her throat, folding her hands behind her back. “Be careful, okay? Don’t let us get too friendly with Azgeda.”   
  
Abby snorted. “The very last thing Pike wants to do is ally with Azgeda. They murdered some of his best people in cold blood.”   
  
“Don’t let us get too hostile, either,” Clarke said. “I’m supposedly trying to broker a treaty here. The last thing we need is Pike making threats and ruining my cover before I figure out what Nia’s up to.”   
  
“This would be easier if you told more people what you were doing,” Abby pointed out.   
  
Clarke shook her head. “More people means more chance of a leak. I only trust you and Lexa… and my friends, but if they know, they could get hurt. This has to stay a secret.”   
  
Abby dipped her chin in resignation. “I know.” There was a long pause, and then she started toward the door. As if reconsidering, she turned and said, “Clarke? Be careful, honey.”   
  
Clarke forced a smile. “I will, Mom.”

 

***

 

The elevator ride down was the quickest Clarke could remember. Before she knew it, the sour smell of the stables was in her nose, and she caught sight of Nia, Ontari, and a complement of Azgedan  _ gona _ standing next to their horses. Nia’s stark white beast wore elaborate black leather and gold armor, and its matching mane and tail were braided in intricate patterns.

Ontari’s dapple grey mount was slightly smaller than Nia’s, and though its brown leather coverings were simpler in appearance, they were well made.  _ They’re not meant to draw attention, _ Clarke thought. It made sense, considering the way that Ontari preferred to skulk around at Nia’s side while avoiding notice.

As Clarke approached, Ontari nodded stiffly in greeting. “You’re late.” Her silver puffs of breath hung in the cold air as she held out a set of reins in her hand. The attached horse, which Clarke assumed was for her, had a muddled brown coat with a short mane.

Clarke choked back a retort as she took the reins from Ontari. “I was saying goodbye to my mother and giving her instructions for my absence.”

It was a half-truth, but seemed to satisfy the Queen. Ontari merely rolled her eyes as she climbed onto her mount. 

“Let’s go,  _ Wanheda _ ,” Nia instructed, finally breaking her silence as she hopped effortlessly onto her horse. “If we leave now, we will reach Azgeda’s borders by sundown. That is the agreement Lexa and I have come to.” 

Clarke swung onto her much smaller steed, trying to keep her heart from jumping as she head Lexa’s name fall from Nia’s mouth. 

They started off with the guards taking the fore and rear, while Nia and Ontari rode on either side of Clarke. It was suffocating, and she could feel animosity burning off Ontari as they rode through the dusty streets of Polis.

“I’m sure you will find Azgeda most hospitable to you,” Nia said as they rode past the marketplace, which was beginning to close. The few people who were still shopping cast wary looks at the trio riding together. Clarke fought the urge to shrink in her saddle under their curious, sometimes frightened glances.

“I’m looking forward to learning more about your powerful clan,” Clarke responded, trying her best to sound civil. She thought she heard an annoyed sigh come from Ontari, but didn’t acknowledge it.

After a few more minutes of silence, they reached the edge of the city and entered the large forest that divided Polis from Azgeda. Clarke held her breath, hyperaware of the knife strapped to her hip. If Nia had anything planned, this would be the time to take advantage of her being alone. 

_ “Azplana, miya snap!” _ a guard called from the path ahead. Nia gave Ontari a significant look before nudging her horse forward, leaving them alone on the hard dirt trail. 

Clarke chanced a look over at Ontari. The girl’s dark eyes bored into hers, and the look on her face hid nothing of her hatred.

“Have I done something to offend you?” Clarke asked. 

“Your existence offends me,” Ontari spat. “The Queen may think you are the best chance for Azgeda to come to power, but it is my birthright.”

“What do you mean, your birthright?” Clarke asked, trying to ignore the almost visceral display of hostility. 

Ontari’s scarred face broke into a small grin, as if she were amused by her question. “My birthright is the same as Lexa’s birthright. It is what makes us worthy to lead our people. We train our entire lives to receive that honor. We aren’t given a useless title for a single event.”

Anger boiled in the pit of Clarke’s stomach. Mount Weather wasn’t a single event, it was a painful memory that would echo inside of her for all eternity. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“I know enough to know what you truly are, and what you are is not worthy to hold the title of Heda.” Ontari turned her head and moved her gaze forward. “Your actions at the mountain cost many people their lives. You and Lexa have the same weakness.” 

“Which is?” Clarke asked, her jaw tightening even more. 

“You let your heart lead you.” Ontari didn’t bother to look back at Clarke as she spoke. “It has always been where Lexa falters most as a leader.” 

Clarke felt another bubble of anger burst inside of her. She knew that her relationship with Lexa had large cracks that needed time to repair, but hearing someone say she was a bad leader made Clarke angier than she had thought possible. 

“If you think Lexa is weak, then you don’t know her at all,” Clarke responded.

Ontari turned to look over her shoulder, lifting a dark eyebrow. “Perhaps you are the one who doesn’t know her as well as you assume.”

Before Clarke could respond, she spotted Nia riding back to them.

“Ontari, the guard is going to ride ahead,” Nia ordered, stopping in front of them as she spoke. “We have visitors from other clans wishing to speak about an alliance. He will tell them we ride with Wanheda. They will be excited to know she will be joining us.”

Ontari nodded and gave her horse a sharp push with her heels. The large animal took off, kicking up dirt and small stones as it trotted down the curved forest trail. In less than a minute, Ontari had vanished behind the trees. 

“I believe you made the right choice in coming with us,” Nia said, turning her horse and riding slowly next to Clarke. “It seems Lexa’s reign may already be crumbling right beneath her feet.” 

If that was the truth, Clarke had less time than she thought. The small walkie talkie suddenly seemed heavy in her rucksack. Once again, she felt the weight of nations resting squarely on her shoulders.

 

***

 

Lexa clutched the radio in her hands and stared into the dancing flames of Clarke’s fireplace, feeling like an intruder in the room even though she was alone. Clarke had left several hours earlier, but the space still smelled like her—or perhaps Lexa was imagining things. If she concentrated, she could summon traces of Clarke’s scent simply by recalling it in her memory.   
  
She set the radio on the arm of the chair, resting her forehead wearily in her hand. Her temples ached, and her stomach was a knot of fear. Clarke wasn’t at Nia’s stronghold yet. If everything went according to plan, she would arrive at Azgeda’s borders within the next hour or so. Still, Lexa couldn’t help worrying. The moment Clarke had left Polis—even before, if Lexa was being honest—she had stepped into incredible danger.   
  
_ This is Klark’s decision _ , Lexa reminded herself. She lifted her head, turning away from the warmth of the fire and gazing out the open window instead. The stars were cold pinpricks against the dark velvet of the night sky, and she wondered if Clarke was looking at them too.

_ Yes, it was her decision, but she had few other options. Saying no would have put her people in danger, and Klark could never abandon them. Just like I can’t abandon them. _ __  
  
After a brief inward battle, Lexa rose from her chair and approached the bed on bare feet, grasping the top fur and pulling it off the mattress. She draped it over her shoulders, shuddering as she wrapped it around her thin frame. It smelled like Clarke, and this time, Lexa knew she wasn’t merely imagining things. Her heart clenched at the thought that this might be the last trace of Clarke she would be able to have. Images of Costia’s severed head flashed in her mind’s eye, no matter how hard she tried to block them out.   
  
_ “Lexa? Come in, Lexa.” _   
  
A crackling noise interrupted her thoughts. Lexa whipped around on instinct, then sucked in a quick breath. The sound was coming from the radio, which she’d left behind by the fire. She rushed over, dragging the bedfur she’d taken behind her. She let it fall around her feet as she grabbed for the radio, checking the dials with trembling fingers. They were set the way Clarke had shown her.   
  
_ “Lexa? Come in, Lexa,”  _ the voice repeated.  _ “Over.” _ __  
__  
_ Klark’s voice.  _ __  
  
For a moment, Lexa was shocked. It was true she sometimes heard the voices of previous commanders in her head—that had taken a great deal of adjustment after she’d emerged victorious from her conclave—but this was incredible. She was hearing Clarke speak from many miles away, and though she’d witnessed such a feat once or twice before during the assault on Mount Weather, this felt different.   
  
It also confirmed that Clarke was alive, at least for the present.   
  
Lexa forced herself to respond. “ _ Klark? _ Is that you?”   
  
There was a pause, then a hushed snort that vaguely resembled laughter.  _ “Who else would it be? Over.” _   
  
Lexa waited, but Clarke didn’t say anything else.   
  
_ “Over means I’m done talking, Lexa. It’s how you communicate on the radio, so we don’t speak over each other.” _   
  
_ “I see.”  _ Then, after a hesitation,  _ “Over.” _   
  
_ “I’m half a mile away from camp. If Nia noticed me sneaking out, she didn’t bother sending babysitters. Things are quiet so far.”  _ Clarke’s voice was fuzzy, and Lexa had to concentrate to hear the articulation of her words.  _ “She hasn’t tried to kill me yet, so that’s a plus. Jury’s still out on Ontari. Over.” _   
  
Lexa ignored the confusing turn of phrase and guessed at Clarke’s meaning through context. “You believe Ontari wishes to kill you? Over.”   
  
_ “She told me so herself. Said becoming Heda is her birthright, and Nia is wrong to think I’d be a better replacement for you. Over.” _   
  
The first thought that entered Lexa’s brain was so crazy she barely acknowledged it. Surely Ontari couldn’t mean ‘birthright’. Clarke was paraphrasing. But the more she considered what the girl might have meant, the more the thought nagged at her. “She said it was her birthright? Over.”   
__  
_ “Yeah. Apparently, you’re both ‘special’. Born to be Heda.” _ __  
  
Her guess suddenly didn’t seem so absurd anymore.  _ “Jok. Du-de laik Natblida.” _   
__  
_ “What?” _   
  
Lexa didn’t wait for Clarke to say ‘over’. “Ontari. She is a natblida. Who knows how long Nia has been hiding her? Grooming her… No, not just that. Bringing her to Polis, flaunting her right beneath my very nose—”   
  
_ “Hold up,” _ Clarke said.  _ “I still don’t understand.” _   
  
Lexa searched for an answer. Though very few knew the true purpose of natblidas as she did, the basic terms of their existence were known to every man, woman, and child among her people. It had to be thus, in order for natblida children to be delivered to Polis for training as she had been. She had never needed to explain the concept before.   
  
“Natblidas are what they sound like. They bleed black, and this is how we know they are marked as potential successors to my position. Such children are brought to Polis for training, so the Spirit may have enough candidates to choose from.” She gritted her teeth. “Ontari should have been among them. There are other children here at the palace, children I train to replace me when the time is right. But Nia has been hiding her.”   
  
_ “And training her to replace you,” _ Clarke finished for her.   
  
Lexa nodded, before remembering Clarke couldn’t see. “I expect so, yes.”   
  
_ “Only things are different now. Ontari told me Nia wants me to replace you.” _   
  
“Impossible,” Lexa said. “You are not a suitable candidate. Not only are you almost too old, you are not a natblida. The Spirit could not select you even if it wanted to.”   
  
_ “So what’s Nia planning?” _   
  
Lexa sighed. “I have no idea. If I knew, I would summon you back immediately.”   
  
To her surprise, Clarke laughed—not a joyful sound, but it lifted Lexa’s spirits ever so slightly anyway. _ “At least someone cares.” _   
  
Lexa’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”   
  
_ “That I’m gone. That I’m… here.” _   
  
There was an awkward silence. “Surely your friends will note your absence soon. Raven, Octavia, Bellamy… your mother seemed distressed upon learning that you had chosen to leave.”   
  
__ “Yeah. But they didn’t go looking for me those three months I was missing, either. You did.”

“I was attempting to take you prisoner,” Lexa pointed out.

_ “For my own safety,” _ Clarke replied.  _ “Not that I was rational enough to see that at the time…” _ Her voice drifted off, leading Lexa to believe she was still somewhat wounded by the lack of effort her family and friends had expended to find her.

“Maybe speaking with your mother will help?” Lexa suggested, still uncertain.

_ “No.” _

The answer came quickly, and with a sharp tone that made Lexa flinch a little. 

_ “No, I—I don’t think that will help right now. I…” _

Clarke’s voice crackled to life after a beat, sounding less harsh. Lexa put her ear closer to the radio as Clarke’s voice started to fade into some sort of buzzing noise before cutting out altogether. 

“Klark?” Lexa’s heart beat in a heavy rhythm, and her mind went directly to the worst possible scenarios. Clarke had been discovered speaking to her. Nia would torture her for days before finally allowing her to die...

Lexa shut her eyes, trying to erase the images flooding her mind. Her stomach lurched as she pressed the hard, cool metal into her forehead, willing Clarke to come back. Still, she didn’t say a word. If Clarke was hiding, she might very well draw unwanted attention.

_ “Lexa?”   _

Clarke’s voice rose through the other noise coming through the small speaker. Lexa felt dizzy with relief at the sound. 

_ “I think I went out of range. I thought I heard someone coming.”  _

Her voice was much quieter now, but Lexa felt warmth rush over her with every syllable. 

“I’m glad you are safe,” Lexa breathed, almost too eagerly. Slowly, she released the button, hoping that maybe Clarke had gone out of range again and hadn’t heard her. 

There was a long beat before the radio hissed to life again. 

_ “Thanks. I’m glad we got to talk tonight.”  _

Clarke left long pauses between her words, and Lexa wasn’t sure if it was because of the tek, or Clarke’s own hesitation. A small smile tugged at her lips, and her tongue poked out to wet her them before she pressed down the button again. “Klark, I…” 

There was a loud rap on her door, and Lexa’s finger slipped from the button. 

_ “Lexa? Lexa, are you alright?”  _ Clarke’s voice had an edge of worry. 

“There is someone at my door. I need to go,” Lexa whispered. “I will be available tomorrow night.”

Lexa couldn’t wait for a response. She clicked the button Clarke had showed her meant ‘off’ and shoved the radio under her pillow. “Enter,” she called, folding her hands behind her back and straightening her shoulders.

No sooner had she spoken than Titus opened the door to her room, wearing a stern look on his face. “Heda — I apologize for the intrusion, but we have been informed that there are Ambassadors meeting with the Ice Queen in Azgeda.” He stopped a few steps in front of her and put his own hands behind his back. His features were drawn, making him look even more tired than he usually did. 

Lexa felt her heart leap once again. If Nia’s plans were moving this quickly, did that mean Clarke was in more danger than she could have predicted? Had she agreed to send Clarke to her death? 

There was no time to think of that right now. Lexa shoved down her emotions, something she had learned from her years of training, and locked eyes with Titus. “Call a meeting with the remaining Ambassadors. If Nia is planning something, we must rise together to stop her at once.”

 

***

  
Ontari stared up at the stars through a gap in the canopy of trees, hands folded behind her head. Though her eyes were fixed on the cold, distant pinpricks of light, her mind was elsewhere. Her mind was on someone else.   
  
She found it difficult to believe that the mighty and terrifying  _ Wanheda _ had come from the endless blackness above her. It was whispered that the Sky People had lived far above the earth itself before their arrival—that there was no air where they came from, and so they had dwelled in the bellies of great metal birds that floated endlessly in the darkness overtop the clouds.   
  
Part of her was reluctant to believe such nonsense, but she had seen  _ Skaikru’s _ tek. She knew its capabilities. Nia was not wrong to covet it and the power it could bestow. Her Mistress’s interest in Clarke, however…that was far more dangerous, for her and for  _ Azgeda _ .   
  
Ontari allowed her eyes to unfocus, watching the stars above her become soft and smudged. Her hearing sharpened, however, as she listened to the sounds around her: the nighttime calls of insects and frogs, a few quiet footsteps as the guards on watch made their rounds, dousing out cook fires as they went. So far, everything appeared normal, but Ontari couldn’t shake the feeling of disquiet stirring in her chest.   
  
Then, she heard something: a quiet crack some distance off. Footsteps that shouldn’t have been there, coming from near  _ Wanheda’s _ tent. Quickly and quietly, she rose to her elbows, then her feet, slipping after the sound. Perhaps it was nothing, but her curiosity tugged her onward. She had decided to linger near their new ally’s tent instead of resting within her own for a reason, and it seemed her instincts had been right as usual.   
  
A glimpse of pale golden hair in the dappled moonlight confirmed Ontari’s suspicions. She followed, padding like a panther after  _ Wanheda’s _ footsteps. She had learned something from her time as a savage in the wilderness, because once or twice, Ontari had to pause and reassess, but she always found the trail again. Clarke was moving away from camp, seeking privacy in the thick of the woods.   
  
At last, Ontari caught sight of her quarry again. Clarke had taken shelter against the gnarled trunk of a tree, crouching low with her back pressed against the bark. She seemed alert, and her eyes darted from side to side, but they never landed on Ontari’s hiding place. As she watched, Clarke lifted a small black box to her lips and whispered something into it.   
  
Ontari strained to hear, but she couldn’t make out the words. Slowly, she slipped forward, trying to gain enough ground to hear, but a brush of her foot against a pile of leaves alerted Clarke to her presence. She started, and without another sound, circled around to the other side of the tree, disappearing once more into the darkness.   
  
Though she considered it, Ontari did not give chase. Attempting to sneak closer had been foolish, reckless. Had she been hunting game, she never would have taken such a needless risk. But  _ Wanheda _ fascinated as well as terrified and infuriated her, and she needed to know more. To know her enemy was power, and whatever Clarke had been doing with the black box was certainly dangerous. Dangerous for whom, Ontari wasn’t yet sure.   
  
One thing was certain, though:  _ Wanheda _ was planning something. Nia would certainly want to know…   
__  
_ But does she need to know yet?  _ Ontari thought to herself. The information was hers to give, and she had the luxury of deciding when. Perhaps it would be to her benefit to keep this knowledge to herself, at least for the time being. _ I need to know more. I will keep a close eye on her, and when I have proof that she is plotting something, I can decide how to act. _   
  
Wanheda was under Nia’s protection for the time being—at least until her Mistress judged her to be too much of a threat to remain alive. But if Wanheda was plotting Nia’s downfall… well, perhaps that might work to her own advantage. If the two of them fought with each other, her path to the throne would be clear. She would become Heda on her own timetable instead of Nia’s. It was only one of many interesting possibilities, but one that appealed to her more and more as she considered it.   
_  
_ __ To be Heda is my birthright. I will claim my destiny, one way or another, with or without Nia’s help.


End file.
